


Contrary to Popular Belief

by DesolateDarlin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depressed Hinata Shouyou, Depression, F/F, I'll add more tags when the story progresses, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-12-13 03:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesolateDarlin/pseuds/DesolateDarlin
Summary: "Contrary to popular belief, Hinata was not stupid. On paper, it may seem that way, but his test scores and assignments that have such a low grade are not a representation of his stupidity, but his motivation. "A.K.A. A story about Hinata's inability to ask for help when he needs it most.





	1. Backstory~

Contrary to popular belief, Hinata was not stupid. On paper it may seem that way, but his test scores and assignments that have such a low grade are not a representation of his stupidity, but his motivation. Almost everything about school could lull Hinata to sleep, the boring classes, the character-filled large textbooks and the soft murmur of his classmates whispering to each other. Hinata was never a very motivated or overachieving child with things that he did not like, but this was a new low, even for him. Hinata hated that feeling, the lack of motivation he felt whenever he was in class, for it seemed that as soon as he sat in his desk he felt a rush of unenthusiasm. His head felt as if it was anchored to the ground, just lifting his head off of his desk or out of his hands to look at the teacher felt as if he was lifting his whole body weight with just his neck. His hands felt stiff and unmanageable, picking up his pencil to write down a simple sentence felt as if he had been writing for a decade. His eyes felt immensely heavier and he found it harder to even look at the board in front of him, for it felt like he had not slept in many days. 

Which he hadn’t. But, that’s not the point.  
Hinata, forever, had only felt this way; this stiff, messy, haphazard, and aimless way whenever he was doing things he didn't like, such as school or chores.  
But as Hinata grew, this feeling grew with him. He started to feel sluggish whenever he wasn't doing something he was completely invested in. He felt tired almost all the time, and he hated it.  
Hinata hated the way he felt every single day. He hated the way his feet dragged along the ground, he hated how heavy his backpack felt, he hated all of it. But, mostly he hated his inability to voice his hatred. Hinata didn’t know how to voice how he was feeling, he didn’t know how to ask for help. So, what did he do??  
He dealt with it, without anybody knowing the internal battle he was going through. To Hinata, it felt like a battle he could not win:  
Until.. He found a way to cope. 

Well.. Hinata would not classify volleyball as just a way to cope. It made him happy, something the young Hinata seemed to have not felt for a while. When he played volleyball, he just played volleyball. It was if all the tiredness and unenthusiasm was pulled from him and replaced with a newfound energy. And Hinata loved it. He invested all of his time into volleyball. He found something that made him happy, and he knew he could count on it to help him deal with his motivational issues. He knew he could get through this on his own.

 

Until he got worse.  
Immensely.

Contrary to popular belief, Hinata was struggling. He was now in his first year at Karasuno High School, and he was struggling. But he didn’t know how to ask for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is so short! I promise future chapters will be so much longer than this garbage! But, I felt as if I needed to give a little backstory on what Hinata had been dealing with for the younger years of his life. He has a good family, friends and everything he needs, but he just doesn't have enough motivation. And, eventually it gets worse and worse and he starts to feel incredibly depressed and doesn't know how to ask for help. I'm quite excited to write more, and the next chapter will not be written this way! It will be in Hinata's point of view :D


	2. Contrary to Popular Belief, Hinata Hates Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata's morning routine to get ready for Morning Practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hinata's hardships and such is based on my own personal experiences.
> 
> I am not looking for pity, so please don't see it that way. Writing all my feelings and hardships down helps, but it is hard because I don't have the motivation to get out of bed most of the time.
> 
> If you would like to know, I have an immense fear of weakness and hide my anxiety and severe depression from all of my friends. I am supposed to take medication for it, but like Hinata in this story, I am a very convincing liar and I do not remember the last time I took it. It has been a while since my last suicide attempt though, so I guess you can see that as a sign of improvement??

The blinds covering Hinata's window did a lousy job of blocking out sunlight. He had originally asked his mother to put up curtains so no sunlight would shine into his room, but Hinata's mother protested, and gave him the 'next best thing', blinds. And since Hinata's father left when he was 7, she had to attach the blinds to the window herself, which was a bad idea in itself. So, the crappily attached blinds let the morning sun glare through and brighten up Hinata's room every morning, almost always waking him up.  
Hinata’s alarm went off at 4 a.m. sharp, like it did every morning. Now, Hinata did not have to get up and get ready at 4, for he had to be out of the house by 5:15 to get to morning practice for 5:45-6. He had an alarm set for so early due to a routine of his, one that he had started when his depression started to get worse. And it went like this;  
Hinata wakes up at 4 am. and tries to get up before 4:45. Usually, getting out of bed took an immense amount of effort and he usually needed a little longer than a half an hour to get himself out of bed.  
Tug on a tee-shirt that he always had hung on his bedside table, and stiffly slide it over his body before walking out of his room and going to the bathroom.  
Once he gets into the bathroom, he decides whether he has enough motivation to shower before school (the answer was almost always no).  
Hinata next would rummage through the medicine cabinet and grab the bandages and medical supplies to clean the mess he had made the night before. 

Contrary to Popular Belief, Hinata cut. Every godforsaken night. He couldn’t help it, he was addicted. But, at least Hinata was smart about it. 

Hinata cut, though he could still wear short-sleeved shirts and shorts. Hinata cut, though he could still smile and laugh. Hinata was a good liar, and was quite smart with things he kept secret. So, Hinata cut his stomach. Little slashes through his skin that would be hidden when he wore a simple garment. When his stomach was covered with cuts, he cut over his cuts. It hurt, and Hinata was glad it hurt. At least, that's what he was aiming for. Pain.  
Once Hinata was done punishing himself, he hid his razor, and lay on his stomach. Even though his inflamed skin screamed in protest, he lay on his stomach and cried. He cried because of many things. He cried because he was embarrassed. He cried because he was lonely. He cried because of the pain he was feeling. He cried because he knew what he was doing wasn't right. He cried because he knew what he was doing wasn't right, but felt so right. Cutting hurt so much, but he needed to hurt. He deserved to hurt every second he was breathing.  
After cleaning up his stomach and bandaging it properly, he would simply put his shirt back on, walk back into his room. Hinata always checked the clock, and it almost always read near the same time,”5:00.” Then, Hinata always would groan, change into his school clothes, pack a bag, and walk out of the house to ride his bike to school. No good morning from his parents, no breakfast made especially for him, no hug goodbye, or even an acknowledgment. When Hinata left his room, the house he lived in was always dark and silent. He was always alone. His mother had work at 8 o’clock sharp, and his sister has school just before that, which she would get driven to by her mother. And, his father was long gone, he hadn't seen or heard of him since he was young.  
So, Hinata was left, alone, at 5:15 every godforsaken morning, sitting on a bike with a bag on his back, a smile on his face, a burning sensation in his stomach, and a wish for death in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to apologize for the updating schedule for this fanfiction, for I have school and volleyball of my own to play as well. As I am writing this, I have work, school, and volleyball on my plate and I do not have a lot of time to write. And, like Hinata, it is hard for me to find motivation.
> 
> Next chapter you'll finally get to see Hinata interact with another human :0


	3. Contrary To Popular Belief, Hinata is an Amazing Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata gets to school and interacts with 4 other students, and he already wants to go home.

“Oi! Dumbass, over here!” A voice ran out, making Hinata jump and almost swerve his bike into the grass. Hinata huffed in frustration, before taking a deep breath and turning to look at the figure standing before the gym doors. Kageyama was already sitting on the steps of the gym door, a smug look plastered on his face,  
”That's another win for me. Have you given up?” Kageyama growled before Hinata could yell out in defense,  
”I’m letting you win because I feel bad for you, Bakeyama!” Kageyama’s smug grin quickly turned into a scowl, the fire in his eyes roaring in fury,”I-I’mma go put my bike on the bike rack!” The small teen squeaked, quickly hightailing out of Kageyama’s vision as quickly as Hinata could.  
Hinata’s back was unintentionally hunched over as if he was trying to seem smaller than he was, but Hinata didn’t notice. His mocha-colored eyes stared at the ground in an uncomfortable fashion, but Hinata didn’t care. His feet dragged along the concrete, the heels of his shoes creating a noise as it scratched against the concrete, but Hinata didn't have enough energy to care.  
The only thing Hinata was cared about was his appearance to others, and when there was nobody around; Hinata simply took the time to preserve energy. Hinata was able to stop forcing himself to smile and laugh, to stand up tall and to bounce around. When nobody else was around, Hinata was able to stop pretending. The only thing Hinata had a hard time with was noticing when people were watching him. His mind was racing so much and so loud that he had a hard time focusing on his surroundings.  
“Hinata??” A soft voice abruptly broke Hinata’s thinking, causing him to snap up his head in fear and surprise. Before him stood Sugawara, Daichi, and Asahi, all looking at him with an expression Hinata couldn’t understand. It took him a second, but he quickly stood up straight and smiled,  
”Morning Suga-senpai!” Asahi and Daichi shared a glance, with worried Hinata even more. He was never good at reading people, and now it was even harder for him. He knew they were thinking about him, but it horrified Hinata so much that he had no idea what they were thinking. He wanted to know-he wanted to know-hE WANTED TO KNOW-HE WANTED TO-  
“Hinata??!” Suga said, his voice clouded with an emotion Hinata could actually understand; fear. The redhead blinked, then winced when he realized that Suga had said something to him,”Sorry Suga, what did you say??”  
Suga stared back at the younger child, before gathering his composure,”I asked if you had gotten enough sleep last night? You look incredibly tired, are you alright??” The upperclassmen sank to his knees to look him in the eye, putting a hand on Hinata’s shoulder.  
“I’m perfectly fine, sorry for worrying you Suga senpai!” Hinata smiled, starting to bow before the hand on his shoulder prevented him. His amber eyes quickly looked back up, staring into Suga’s hazel eyes,  
“Are you sure Hinata? You look..” Suga trailed off, obviously trying to find a word to describe his underclassman,  
“I’m perfectly fine and ready for practice Suga!” Hinata laughed, fist-pumping before scrambling to catch his bike he had ‘forgotten’ he was holding. Suga laughed, and Hinata smiled back sheepishly, before pushing past the third years and shouting,”I’m going to go put my bike away and be back for practice quickly, I promise captain!” Hinata turned his head, giving a sloppy salute before jumping back on his bike to find the bike rack. As soon as he turned the corner and was out of his teammate’s eyes, his posture immediately drooped and his head hung. He was so tired, keeping up his act was so tiring. His stomach hurt so much, and he felt incredibly nauseous. But then again, when was the last time he didn't feel this way? Hinata’s eyes closed, deep in thought as he tried to remember. 

Hinata couldn’t remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys im having a hard time writing, my motivation is so nonexistant right now. I'm sorry for how bad this chapter was.


	4. Contrary To Popular Belief, Hinata Thinks He Doesn't Deserve To Play Volleyball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so so so sorry. I haven't updated in so long and this shitty paragraph can barely be called an update.   
> Its been really hard for me to write, but nobody cares about that haha
> 
> This is setting up the next chapter, and I really hope that it's 10000x better than this mess.
> 
> So sorry-

Hinata’s morning practice and classes passed before his glassy eyes quickly, which Hinata would qualify as a good thing if he could remember what happened during the day. Looking back he could not remember anything other than the dull ache in his chest that lingered no matter what he did. He always hurt, like someone had stabbed him in the chest and every breath the redhead took just tore his skin more. Hinata wished sometimes he could just push the knife deeper into his chest so he would stop the constant pain. Hinata wished to stop breathing. 

But Hinata also grew familiar with the pain, so when he was doing something else that would distract him he found the pain to disintegrate into thin air, a few minutes of freedom from the suffering Hinata was undergoing. He found that these few moments always seemed to be while playing volleyball. By playing volleyball he was not alone for an hour. By playing volleyball he could be part of a family. By playing volleyball he could be happy.

 

Until Hinata realized something.

Until Hinata realized how stupid he was thinking he belonged on the court.

 

Hinata is the worst passer on the team, there is no doubt in his mind about that. He is also the worst server, the worst blocker, and the worst hitter. The only thing he has going for him is his quick with Kageyama that the setter could easily do with anyone on the team. Sure he got to hit once or twice but he is so very lucky those go in. He is the worst at everything, he is only a short first year who is only on the court to make sure the other hitters could hit.

 

Hinata is only on the court to distract the other team. Hinata is the distraction. Hinata is not needed on the court.

Hinata doesn't matter on the court.

Hinata doesn't matter.

 

Hinata realized this while in his math class the day after the match with Seijou. And it's carried on with him ever since. Every single time he plays volleyball he carries this mess of a realization in the back of his mind, and cannot shake the utter realness of his thoughts. Suddenly everything made sense, all the problems he had been having instantaneously clicked and he found the root to every single problem he was feeling.

 

Hinata didn't deserve to be on the team. He was not good enough to be on the team, he didn’t deserve to even see a court at this point. There are so many other people who deserve his spot instead. 

 

Hinata needs to give up his spot. He knows that this is the only decision, and if he doesn't he will be riddled with guilt.

Today is the day.  
Today is the day he will quit the volleyball team.


	5. WIP and formal apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the title says it all.

I feel really bad about not updating this. I've been having a really rough time, but y'all don't wanna know about that. I just wanted to inform the people who may actually care about this piece of garbage that I'll try to get the next part out soon; I'm hoping to write it tomorrow if I can get out of bed.

heres a crappy WIP

Hinata’s feet dragged along the rigid concrete, the silence broken by the scratch of his shoes against the ground. His clammy hands tightened around the strap of his gym bag, a grimace painted across the redheads face. Maybe, if he walked slow enough he would never make it to practice, and quit. Maybe if he just never went to practice they would understand. Maybe, if he just-  
“DUMBASS HINATA!” A voice broke Hinata out of his thoughts as he quickly snapped up his head from the ground. Kageyama stood at the door of the gym, a look of pure fury stretched across his face,”It's the first-years turn to set up the gym before practice, don't try to get out of it dumbass!” Hinata involuntarily shrank back at Kageyama’s yelling, before taking a long sigh and plastering a sheepish smile on his face.  
”You caught me. Let me change first!” The short boy yelled back, picking up the pace of his legs like he was sprinting to the club room. As soon as Hinata was out of Kageyama’s view he stopped, groaning loudly. Of course, it was their time to set up the gym. He hopped that Daichi was in the clubroom, but to Hinata’s dismay, he was not, so Hinata stood in the middle of the clubroom, alone. Hinata’s mind was racing, collapsing in on itself. 

 

sorry again


End file.
